


Il vero volto dei Mangiamorte

by Kiliandra



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animagus, Canonical Character Death, Evil Dumbledore, M/M, Sexual Content, Slytherin Harry, Violent Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 18:25:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7449559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiliandra/pseuds/Kiliandra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sorting Hat never listened to Harry Potter.<br/>Severus SNape is mean Potion Master with loads of secrets.<br/>Some old man is trying to controle this whole situation.<br/>AU. Canon escaped to slimy dungeons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> What would happen if the Sorting Hat never listened to Harry’s requests and sorted him into Slytherin? Variation on the subject.  
> Warnings: Sex, blood and violence and the deaths of canonical characters. Vocabulary straight from Nocturne.  
> The whole thing will be quite long tapeworm of a production, so please be patient (I'm translating my own story from Polish, so be patient if some mistakes will happen.
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters of course belong to the author of the original, I just borrowed them and pestered.

**Prologue**

It was the last day of August. Outside the window the sun shone intensely, pouring his warmth on Hogwart’s grounds. A gentle breeze swayed the branches of the Whomping Willow, and delicate, fluffy, white clouds drifted on the sky. A perfect day, someone naïve would say. A perfect day to kill somebody.

Dumbledore was sitting in the chair, once again looking from behind his half-glasses at a parchment lying before him. In his blue eyes one could have seen dancing fires. But they didn’t have anything to do with the flames of joy, which were easy to spot there usually.

He rose with a swing from his Headmaster's chair. The parchment, which he held in his hand, he threw on the floor and hurled lightning at the wall. A loud bang and a blinding flash spread throughout the office. Numerous devices, drawers and tables began squeaking and creaking, throwing a cornucopia of lights from within themselves.

“I'll kill you, liar!You devious, sneaky...” he called under his breath, walking around the room back and forth. Fawkes, alarmed, raised his head and looked at his master. He flew to his shoulder to comfort him, seeing that he’s upset. Although, to call him just annoyed was a big understatement. Dumbledore hissed from behind his clenched jaws and he driven off the bird away.

“Find me him, stupid bird. Find him and bring him here so I can kill him!” he screamed.The bird flew through the window of the tower. Dumbledore stood for a moment, staring into sky, where the phoenix flew. “Find him for me. He won’t flee with Harry Potter. Harry Potter is mine,” he growled under his breath, glancing one last time upon the resignation written with so well-known handwriting. Small, black letters seemed to mock him, to lift their tails and dots in a sarcastic smile. As if his Potions Master stood before him in person. He reduced to ashes cursed parchment. But didn’t feel any relief.

His Harry Potter. His Golden Boy. Bargaining chip in the war against Voldemort disappeared. And everything was Severus Snape’s guilt.


	2. Chapter first. Not the smartest.

**1\. Chapter first. Not the smartest.**

In one second the cemetery, where he fought with Voldemort a moment before, disappeared and in the second one familiar faces appeared before him: the Headmaster, Snape, Moody, Sprout, Draco Malfoy. In that one fleeting moment rage gripped his consciousness. He let go of the cup, which guaranteed him a victory in the Triwizard Tournament, and thus brought into the presence of Voldemort. He didn’t pay any attention to anyone around, just headed toward the pale blond in front of him. The freshly captured cup rolled on the grass and stopped at the shoes of head of his house.

“You lied to me, you bastard! You both lied to me, you and your father. He’s... a Death Eater. Your fucking father is a Death Eater!” he began pummeling Draco's face. The boy retreated terrified, but Harry pressed forward, still beating him. “You cheated. He watched calmly as the Dark Lord tried to kill me. Kill! He did nothing! And you knew. You knew! You had to know,” he screamed, pounding the shocked blonde. Tears sprung somewhere under his eyelids, but he was too proud to let them see the light of day.

“Severus, please take the boy,” Harry heard the headmaster’s voice in his ears and he jumped to run. Suddenly some force tangled his legs and he fell to the ground. He cursed violently and reached for his wand.

“Finite Incantatem!” He heard the words of the spell, and for a moment felt a freedom of movement. Once on his feet, a jerk kept him in place. Someone was holding his arm.

“Come. I promised Headmaster that I'll take care of you.” The Steady hand of Alastor Moody clutched his elbow. The Senior Auror turned his steps toward the castle. “Everything will be fine, son, I’ll take care of you... We're going to the hospital wing.”

Harry thought for a moment that Dumbledore had ordered something different, but the same Dumbledore lied to him earlier. He followed the man, who was still holding him in a strong grip. His head of house was nowhere to be seen, so he followed the DADA teacher. Moody was an Auror after all. Harry was finally safe.

Was something important worthy of consideration right now? Voldemort just tried to kill him. Malfoy was a Death Eater. Draco Malfoy was a traitor. He hadn’t told him that his father was a Death Eater. They’d surely been laughing at him all this time. How he could be so foolish as to trust them? Trust! He gave his trust to the son of people who killed his parents. He’d confided in fucking murderers!  
Rage seethed in him like a scorched elixir.

As soon as they crossed the threshold of Moody’s office, Harry hurled himself at the left arm of the man. He looked at him with amusement.

“You will not find the Dark Mark here, boy,” said calm voice.

“Lucius Malfoy is a Death Eater,” he replied hurriedly, as if it would explain his unreasonable behavior against the teacher. “A cup, the cup was a Portkey. It apparated me to the cemetery. And then the guy who called himself Wormtail, gave a new lease of life to the Dark Lord. There is a Death Eater in the castle. He threw my name in the Goblet of Fire. I have to tell the headmaster...”

Harry spewed out the relevant information, only to hear in a moment Moody’s accusations of disloyalty towards the wizards who had got away from Azkaban. He announced proudly that it will be him, who will hand Harry over to Voldemort. Harry clenched his jaw, wondering how he could be so stupid. Again. Moody also took part in this conspiracy. He and Malfoy. They cornered him, created a spider's web, and now he will be used for their own sick purposes. And to think that last year seemed terrible because Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was a werewolf.

**##**

These few strange minutes were followed by another strange occurrence. The headmaster burst into the room with Harry’s head of house and with that old hag, McGonagall. They told him to go back to the dormitory. But before he could execute this command Moody turned into another man. Crouch. Harry was sure it was Crouch Jr. They questioned him, pouring Veritaserum into his mouth and they didn’t call Aurors until they finished. Harry didn’t understand much of it. _How did it happen that so far these few crafty wizards hadn’t caught onto the fact there is someone dressed in the skin of another human being in the castle? Especially someone as dangerous as Crouch._

After two hours of all this confusion, Crouch Jr. was taken by the Auror’s Department. The real Alastor Moody received medical attention. Harry, himself was led away by the Old Cat to the dungeons, as head the of his house was delegated to the hospital wing to check the status of "Mr. Malfoy," as the old fogy put it. Harry smiled with satisfaction at the news that he had managed to damage this bugger. He didn’t want to think about it, the entire situation seemed to him like he was stuck in a nightmare. His best friend turned out to be a deadly threat. Harry didn’t understand, though, why he let him beat him into a bloody pulp without even a single try at defending himself. But perhaps he was afraid to curse Harry in front of all those witnesses. 

Zabini and Goyle said something to him as soon as he entered the dormitory. He remembered sassing something, as he went to the bedroom, jumped onto his bed and put silencing and blocking spells to rid off of unwanted individuals. 

He had to think things through and didn’t have the slightest desire to talk to anyone. Especially not these snakes.

**##**

When at three in the morning he was still unable to put together all the facts, he decided that he needed to talk to someone sensible. Quietly he threw a cape over his shoulders and walked out of the dormitory. After a few steps he was in front of Snape's office. He turned the doorknob, but the door was locked. Alohomora opened it without a problem, but the office was deserted. Another opening spell didn’t work on the massive door leading to Snape’s private laboratory. The same deal was with the door that led to his private quarters. Closed.

Harry knocked. One, then another and another. Dead silence answered him. He didn’t dare to open the door with a spell, and even if he had so little self-preservation, he probably wouldn’t succeed anyway. Head of the snake house apparently wasn’t home. 

The Idea of checking if Malfoy is heavily guarded in the Hospital Wing entered in his mind, if Snape wasn’t there to stop him Harry thought he might strangle the treacherous Slytherin, but Harry didn’t want to become a murderer not even for a vile a creature as Malfoy.

It was probably six in the morning, when he finally fell asleep.

_He was back in the cemetery, unable to move. Before him paced the slimy lizard. Around him figures in hoods started to apparating. This time, he watched carefully and listened to their voices and what they had to say. Abyssal, cowardly creatures. "Yes, y Lord." "Please, my Lord." "I beg you, my Lord." "I'm sorry, my Lord." "I always believed in you, my Lord." He wanted to puke. Lucius’ almost white hair fluttered gently in the spring, evening breeze. His eyes were cold, expressionless. Another "Yes, my Lord," falling from the mouth of Greg’s father. Harry waited for this one, specific, "Yes, sir," but haven’t heard it among the other voices... Besides Malfoy he identified Crabb, Avery and Nott. He recognized a few more men, whom he had seen during balls at Draco’s. But this one was nowhere to be spotted, the silhouette of whom he would recognize without a lapse. The Potions Master wasn’t there._

He woke up with a slight relief that he hadn’t seen the Bat. Has Dumbledore lied, saying that Snape is no longer a Death Eater? Harry wasn’t surprised that this old idiot stuffed with sugar could believe the Potions Master. Even if the man had lied. But Harry also wanted to believe him. A few hours ago, his whole world had collapsed in rubble, and Harry hoped that at least one fixed point in his life remained the same – Head of Slytherin. But the man didn’t deign to talk to him after the incident. He just disappeared, and walked away to tend Draco’s bruised muzzle.

Everything seemed upside down. And in this whole situation nobody treated him seriously. No-one treated him as a conversation partner. Headmaster patronizingly patted him on the shoulder and sent away without any ‘please’, ‘sorry’, ‘thank you’ or ‘sod off’. Harry almost growled angrily and bit his lower lip. _‘Fuck you, Dumble! Fuck you, Snape! You do not have time to talk with your Golden Boy? Your Golden Boy won’t be talking to you.’_

Harry stared at the green curtains which surrounded his bed. _Tempus_ clearly showed him that it was already 11am. Nobody woke him for breakfast. Not that he wanted to eat anything after all that had happened, but they could at least try. He decided to test them. He wouldn’t come out until someone came, if the black haired asshole hadn’t shown his sorry arse then Harry would play a very different game.

He slipped his hand under the pillow, where he hid a thousand galleons won yesterday and smiled to himself. He was glad that he had enough judgment to request the money. No more returns to Hogwarts. There are other schools of magic. Away from the psychopath, who wants to kill him. Away from the stupid family. And finally… away from friends who stabbed him deeply, plunging the knife to the hilt, smiling politely at the same time.

_"My Lord, I was constantly on the alert,"_ Harry remembered again the words enunciated by Lucius Malfoy and boiled up with rage.

_‘I will never allow myself such a weakness.’_


End file.
